Which is probably why she let her guard down. She might not be as oblivious to her surroundings as I previously thought.
“That was Ilya.” I lean closer. “How long are we supposed to keep whispering?”
She grabs my hand—no, it’s just my wrist—and drags me to her room, then closes the door. “You need to leave.”
“Why?”
“How the hell am I supposed to explain you to Ava? We’re not in a relationship.”
That’s the second fucking time she’s said that sentence tonight. The difference is that she doesn’t sound accusing now and is only stating facts.
“Do you want to be in a relationship?”
Her lips part the slightest bit, but that’s enough of a sign. “What?”
“You were jealous of Maya, and you apparently need a label to put your busy brain at ease. Will being in a relationship satisfy you?”
“What does being in a relationship with you mean, Jeremy? That you get to order me around, have me do your bidding while you continue to push me out? Because that’s called ownership, not a relationship, and I’m not a fan.”
“Watch that mouth.”
She releases a long breath, then speaks in a less strained tone. “A relationship means compromise, giving and taking, a partnership. It’s not an imbalance of power where you have the last word in everything and I’m along for the ride.”
“You love the ride.”
“Sexually, yeah, I do. I give you free rein to do whatever you please in that department. But not in the real world, Jeremy. I’m a human being with feelings, fears, and preferences. I’m also an independent person who cherishes her freedom. If you force me all the time, I’ll eventually close myself off from you. I don’t want that, and I’m sure you don’t want that either, right?”
I narrow my eyes on her.
She’s asking for something. What exactly, I don’t know.
“Say it.”
Her brow furrows. “Say what?”
“What you want.”
“I just want to know more about you. It’s unfair that you’re the only one who knows things about me.”
“You know everything there is to know.”
“Everything? You mean the fact that you study business, are the head of the Heathens, and a mafia heir? Those tell me nothing about your character.”
“You know about the bike, the cottage, and my sexual flavors.”
She relaxes a little, probably finally figuring out how she’s underestimating how much she knows me. Almost on the same level as my parents.
Hell, even they don’t know what I’m into.
She steps closer. “Have you always had this kink?”
“Since I hit puberty, yes.”
“When did you first act on it?”
“During that initiation when I was chasing you.”
Her face blushes. “You…never tried it before?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t trust anyone to do it with.”
“Does that mean you trust me?” She looks at me with big green eyes so full of hope and renewed affection.
No, she wants my affection.
She wants more from me.
Me.
That one baffles the fuck out of me. Why would she? The only thing I know how to give her is pleasure.
“Partially,” I say in answer to her question.
Her shoulders hunch and some of the brightness from before dims. “Why not fully?”
Because you called that motherfucker’s name during that first time.
And she refused to call mine earlier.
Not to mention that she’s begrudgingly into this, partly because I threatened her, partly because she can’t—and won’t—find anyone who satisfies her kink aside from me. Who touches her, fucks her, and pushes her buttons like I do.
But if she has the chance, I have no doubt she’ll bolt.
“It’s my turn to ask the questions.” I cross my arms. “What did that blond fucker do that caused you to zone out?”
She blinks at the jarring change of subject. “He didn’t do anything, but he said something too similar to what Jonah said when we first got together.”
“Who’s Jonah?” I ask, even though I know exactly who the fucker is.
“My scum of an ex,” she snarls at the mere mention of him.
That’s my girl.
“Was it too similar?” I ask.
“It was actually word for word.” She shudders. “It was creepy as hell.”
“Do you think they’re acquaintances?”
“I don’t know. I hope not.” A tinge of fear slips into her gaze. She’s scared that the reason behind her nightmares will come back into her life.
And I’ll get rid of it before it even gets close.
“I’m going to change my clothes,” she announces, and when I remain there, she adds, “that’s your cue to leave.”
“I will after you fall asleep.”
I can tell she wants to object, but she releases a sigh and goes on about her business.
I’ll wait for her to fall asleep and then I’ll find out exactly why the blond fucker and his friend approached Cecily tonight.
JEREMY
“Go.”
Ilya rattles the door off of its hinges on our way inside when we were supposed to be discreet.
The look of absolute shock on the motherfuckers’ faces when we slip into their apartment is worth it, though.
The dark-haired one, Larry, flinches from his slumber, blinks slowly, and then looks down at his barely covered junk.
His friend with curly hair, Donovan, wakes up next from his sleeping position on the floor.
There’s no sign of Steven.
Ilya nods at me and flings open the other doors in search of him.
“What the fuck?” Donovan says in a craggy voice. It’s early morning, and while this operation was supposed to happen late last night, I kind of couldn’t leave when Cecily fell asleep in my arms.
And I may have spent hours watching her sleep like the creep she labeled me as.
It wasn’t until Ilya texted me, reminding me that these fuckers have classes this morning and asking if we should reschedule for tonight, that I finally left her side.
The fact that I actually struggled to peel her warmth off me and leave is bothersome and downright annoying.
Ilya hauls Steven up with a grip on his collar. The bastard is sporting a purple bruise from when he was acquainted with my fist last night, and he looks like a grotesque version of himself.
My guard shoves him between his friends and makes the three of them kneel in front of the sofa while they fruitlessly struggle and release some juvenile what the fucks.
“My father is powerful,” says Donovan, licking his lips and sweating profusely.
“What a coincidence.” I tilt my head to the side. “So is mine, but you don’t see me using his name or influence.”
Larry stares at Ilya, who’s nothing short of a wall behind him, then blurts, “Can we talk about this?”
“That’s what I had in mind.” I make a show of removing my jacket and laying it on a nearby chair before going back to stand in front of them. “You had a mission last night that entailed approaching Ava and Cecily, separating them, and cornering Cecily. I want to know all about that mission—the why, how, and who.”
Steven snarls, “Fuck you.”
I drive my fist into the good side of his face until blood explodes all over his features, splattering them with red, and then casually step back. “That wasn’t an answer. We’ll try again. Who put you up to it?”
“Listen, man.” Donovan trembles at the sight of his friend. “We really meant no harm.”
I punch him, harder than I did his friend, and he wails like a kicked puppy, grabbing his face and cursing.
My attention slides to Larry. “Will you tell me what I need to know, or should you meet your fate first?”
Steven tries to stand up, but Ilya shoves him back down and kicks Donovan, who comes to his aid.
Larry watches his useless friends and then studies my fist. “Fuck this.”
“No,” Steven shouts and wiggles under my guard’s clutches. “Don’t tell this motherfucker—”
His words end on an oomph when Ilya kicks him in the gut.
“It’s not worth it,” Larry says, then stares at me. “We were told by some guy at the club that if we did something for him, we’d get free drugs.”
My finger slides back and forth on my thigh. A guy at the club?
Jonah is in fucking London. What would he be doing at the club? Unless he dropped by for a visit?
But that’s not right either, considering I tagged him and I know precisely where that motherfucker is at all times.
Note to self: check with my guy on Jonah’s whereabouts last night.
I retrieve my phone, scroll to the pictures of the scum and show it to the three of them. “Is this him?”
“No,” Larry and Donovan say in unison.
I don’t even need to wait for Steven’s answer. No flash of recognition shone in their eyes when they saw the picture.
Unless they’re highly trained killers or psychopaths who are excellent at disguising their emotions, it’s impossible to hide that.
“What did he tell you to do?” I ask with a calm I don’t feel.
Larry swallows twice, then licks his lips three times before he speaks. “He pointed at two girls at the bar and told us to separate them. He didn’t care what we did to the blonde, but we had to make the silver-haired one uncomfortable. He told us to start respectively, though, or she would bolt, and if she bolted, we couldn’t have the good stuff. After we gained her trust us, we could grope her or do whatever we pleased.”
Blood boils in my veins, and destructive energy bubbles inside me with the need to purge.
“Whatever you pleased,” I repeat with a voice hanging on edge.
“We weren’t planning to do anything,” Donovan blurts. “I swear.”
My gaze strays to Steven. “How about you, motherfucker? Did you have any ideas after you got the ‘whatever you please’ green light?”
“No,” he says in a complete bullshitting tone.
“I think you’re lying. I think you planned to get under her skin and have free access to her. He told you that sentence, didn’t he? You’re too beautiful to be hidden away. Probably said you should use that to fuck with her head and make her pliant. But here’s the thing.” I grab him by the collar, hauling him to his feet. “That girl you touched belongs to me, and do you know what I do to people who look at, let alone hurt, what’s mine? I make them wish for death.”
Steven’s eyes shine with unbounded fear for the first time since we broke into their apartment.
He knows he fucked up and messed with the wrong person. The one person’s path he should never have crossed.
If they’d only made the mistake of approaching her in the club, a punch and a blacklisting from the club would be enough. Not really, but I would’ve forced myself to stop at that.
But these three fuckers had the nerve to hurt her emotionally and bring back memories she’s been trying so hard to get over.
“Here’s how it will go. I’ll punish you for daring to come near Cecily and having the audacity to touch her, and I will make sure it hurts. I’ll also leave a scar so you’ll remember me. Then you’ll remove yourselves from her life. If I spot you within a ten-mile radius of her, I will fucking kill you and dump you so deep in the sea, no one will find your corpse.”
Then I singlehandedly beat the fuck out of the three of them, but Steven is different. Steven also gets to be waterboarded to within an inch of his life while he bleeds all over the apartment and shits himself.
Steven will remain on my radar long after he’s healthy, so I’ll beat the fuck out of him all over again. He’ll live in fear, looking over his shoulder, under his bed, and in the closet, searching for the devil from his scariest nightmares.
It takes longer than I’d initially planned for us to leave their place. Partly because I enjoyed bloodying them the fuck up a bit too much.
Unlike what rumors imply, I don’t get off on violence, and I don’t go out of my way to pursue it.